


He’s My Ride Home

by wildxwired



Series: 4/20 [3]
Category: Schitt’s Creek
Genre: 4/20, Anxiety, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post Season 4, Recreational Drug Use, Weed, patrick is the best boyfriend, schitt’s Creek has a creek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildxwired/pseuds/wildxwired
Summary: The third time David and Patrick get high together, David realises just how damn lucky he is to have a boyfriend who knows him -reallyknows him.





	He’s My Ride Home

**Author's Note:**

> Part three of my 4/20 series!
> 
> Title from Blue October’s ‘She’s My Ride Home’. Check it out, it’s a gorgeous song.

The third time David and Patrick get high together, David realises just how damn lucky he is to have a boyfriend who knows him - _really_ knows him. 

When he walks into Ray’s house on a Friday afternoon, David can feel the tension in his shoulders. It’s been building there all day, with each phone call and text and irritating customer and unwanted mocking comment from his sister. He feels like there are a thousand tiny pebbles under his skin weighing him down, and all he wants to do is attach himself to the one rope strong enough to pull him out of the pit; 

Patrick. 

David had initially been fine with taking an alternating day off in the week, leaving one person running the store. He likes being in the store alone (usually), it gives him the time and space he needs to really envision what he wants for the business in the coming days, weeks and months. He can lose himself in his journal, plan and plot and prepare. He can scribble down all his ideas, both good and bad. It’s cathartic. 

Today has been more like a punishment for a crime he never committed. 

Since the moment he awoke that morning his mother had been _on him_ like freebies on a social media influencer, wrapping her extensive vocabulary around his still sleep riddled brain until his head started to pound. 

Bosnia. Fucking _Bosnia_. Who shoots a fucking film in fucking Bosnia?

Ever since she got the date she’s been buzzing around David like an angry, elegant hornet, firing off concerns disguised as thinly veiled insults. Because somehow she’s gotten it into her head that it’s David’s sole responsibility to keep the family upright, convinced that his dad and sister will crumble without his mother’s ‘comforting and nurturing’ (her words, not David’s) presence. 

And even though David’s had decades of his mother’s overdramatics, she never fails to prickle against the soft armour that surrounds his anxiety these days. He doesn’t _want_ to go through every possible situation the family could get themselves into in his mother’s absence. He doesn’t want to be the person in charge of finding his father things to occupy his time. He doesn’t want to be responsible for his grown adult sister and her clumsy spirit. 

He just wants Patrick. 

He wants Patrick’s comforting eyes and spreadsheet making hands to soothe away the angry glow of the molten pit that’s currently eroding the inside of his chest. He wants Patrick to reason with his head, to save the day on a white horse with his sword of logic and then kiss the rest of the crazy right out of David. 

As if by some beautiful miracle, Ray’s on his way out just as David’s on his way in. 

“Oh, David - Hello!” he greets cheerily as David steps through the door. “Are you here for Patrick or have you finally decided to take me up on my closet organisation offer?” 

David physically recoils from the question. He can practically hear his wardrobe screaming all the way from the Motel. 

“Just Patrick for now, thanks.”

Unphased as ever, Ray collects his keys from the hook on the wall. “Patrick’s upstairs. I’m just heading out to measure some gazebos with Ronnie for an open house tomorrow. If anyone calls, tell them I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

David’s eyes light up and Ray’s hurried farewell falls on deaf ears. The urge for his boyfriend in an empty house propels him towards the stairs with an eagerness usually reserved for free food samples at Elmdale mall, and his feet are in such a rush that seconds later he’s throwing open Patrick’s bedroom door. 

Patrick looks up from his book as David slams himself against the closed bedroom, panting. 

“There isn’t much time.”

Without missing a beat Patrick snaps his book closed. 

“We must protect the president!”

“What?” David snaps, unimpressed by Patrick’s theatrics, even when he smiles that adorable little smile he gets when really amuses himself. “You think you’re so cute.”

“Well, I have it on good authority I’m not the only one who thinks so,” Patrick smiles as he lazily sets his book aside. 

“Mkay. Well, _I_ have it on good authority that Ray is out of the house for the next half hour, so pants off.”

With wide, excited eyes Patrick rolls onto his back and quickly starts unbuckling his jeans. David rushes to the bed, crawling on top of Patrick and seizing his mouth in a heated kiss. Patrick’s hands abandon their quest and find a new adventure beneath David’s sweater, hiking it and the t shirt beneath up to reveal the soft flesh that hides there. 

“You sure he’s gone?” Patrick mumbles as David sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Saw him leave myself,” he replies breathlessly. “We don’t have long, though.”

David slips his hand inside Patrick’s unbuttoned jeans to cup and rub him through his boxers. Patrick gasps, hips stuttering up from the bed as his dick starts to respond. 

“Ok, so, no foreplay then?” Patrick teases and David bites at Patrick’s shoulder and squeezes his cock, earning him a moaned curse as Patrick’s eyes snap closed. 

As David hurries Patrick’s jeans open, his phone begins to buzz in his pocket. 

“Ignore it,” he says immediately before Patrick even dares suggest he answer. He licks up his palm and grips Patrick’s erection firmly for good measure. 

The buzzing stops. David strokes Patrick in triumph. 

“Mm, I love how hard I get for you,” Patrick murmurs into David’s hair, pulling his face back to his so they can kiss, messy and rushed. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth-”

The buzzing starts again. 

“Fuck!”

“Answer it,” Patrick says after a moment with the kind of patient softness that shouldn’t be achievable with a hand around his dick. “It might be important.”

“And this isn’t?” David demands, glancing down at Patrick’s promising erection. 

“David…” Patrick trails, commanding without an inch of demand in that annoying _Patrick_ way as David’s phone continues to buzz angrily from his back pocket. 

“Fine,” David huffs, letting go of Patrick to throw himself onto his ass beside him, pulling out his phone as he goes. 

“ _What?_ ” he bites into the phone and is immediately greeted by his mother’s shrill wailing. 

For ten minutes she stage sobs and complains about the terms of her contract, the airline’s baggage allowance limits, his father’s inability to squeeze his old fishing buddy for a free upgrade with an airline he doesn’t even hold shares in anymore, as well as shrieking for a good thirty seconds as she tries to find her other feather bangle. 

Patrick sits patiently at the head of the bed, offering a reassuring squeeze to David’s shoulder each time he presses his fingers into his closed eyes with frustration. 

David yells, “Ask Alexis!” for the third time in as many minutes before letting out an aggravated wail and dropping his phone onto the bed. 

“Everything ok?” Patrick encroaches gently, shuffling behind David and tucking his chin over David’s shoulder. 

“Not since 1985,” he grumbles, letting his head relax against Patrick’s even though there’s so much stiffness in his shoulders.

Patrick smiles weakly before pressing an open mouthed kiss to David’s neck. “I could help you forget about it,” he starts, hands skirting down David’s sides. 

And it’s just that moment the front door slams closed and a cheery, “Only me, gentlemen!” wafts up the stairs. 

David pulls himself from Patrick’s grip and throws himself to his feet. He feels like he’s suffocating, like life is itching his skin. 

“That’s it!” he snaps, hands coming to his hair, elbows blocking everything from view. “I can’t _take this_ anymore.” 

Patrick scrambles to his knees and shuffles to the foot of the bed, pulling David in by the waist. 

“Hey,” he says, hands on David’s elbows, pulling them down to reveal his flushed face. David can tell by the look on Patrick’s face that his eyes must be wide and too focused. “David,” he barely whispers.

David pulls himself away from Patrick’s grasp and shakes his head. 

“No.” He has no idea what he’s saying no to, but Patrick grabs him again anyway, his large hands solid and comforting on David’s shoulders. 

“Hey, David, baby… _look at me_ ,” Patrick urges and David sighs and drops his arms, rewarding Patrick’s efforts purely because David can never resist when Patrick calls him that. 

“I should go,” David says, blinking away the threatening tears. Patrick frowns. “I should just go back to the motel and take care of things there and try not to have a very incorrect nervous breakdown amongst my mother’s wig collection.”

And really he should. He should roll up all his mess and take it with him, as far away from Patrick as possible. He has already unravelled enough. 

But Patrick slides his hands up David’s neck, cups his face and presses a comforting kiss to David’s forehead. And then he’s gone. He pulls back and pushes himself off the bed, zipping up his jeans and stuffing his feet into his sneakers. 

“Come on,” he says softly as he grabs his phone from the nightstand and nudges his head towards the door. 

“You don’t have to drive, I can walk,” David starts to say but Patrick simply rolls his eyes and steps forward to press another kiss - this time to David’s temple. 

“We’re not going to the motel.” David blinks uselessly as Patrick loosely links their fingers together and starts to pull David towards the door. 

As they’re leaving, Patrick is impressively both navigating the stairs and texting one handed. David tries to see to who, but he doesn’t trust his feet as much as Patrick seems to, so he simply follows obediently instead. 

*

David’s too exhausted to ask where, how or why, and the evening breeze is strangely beautiful for this time of year in Schitt’s Creek, so he lays back in the passenger seat and watches the sky melt into evening. 

Patrick has always driven a lot faster than David, usually it makes him tense but tonight David is thankful for the rumble of the car beneath his feet. He closes his eyes against the blur of houses and trees to stop himself from asking where they’re going, trying to listen to the part of his brain that doesn’t care. 

Soon David feels the car slow and pull to a stop and then Patrick’s hand is on his thigh giving a light squeeze. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and David opens his eyes just in time to see the car door close and Patrick leisurely stroll away. 

It takes David a moment of appreciating Patrick’s ass in those gloriously well fitting jeans as he leaves before David realises they’re parked in front of Stevie’s apartment building. He’s too mentally exhausted to process any more information than that, so he closes his eyes again and thinks about Patrick’s ass for the two minutes he’s gone. 

When Patrick returns, David feels the car rock subtly beneath them before there’s a cool press of wet lips against his cheekbone. 

“Hi,” David whispers softly, eyes fluttering open to see Patrick’s kind face and loving gaze in the early evening light. 

“Stevie says hi,” Patrick says as he starts the engine and reverses back onto the main road. David simply hums in response. 

“Does _she_ know where we’re going?” 

Patrick smirks but doesn’t reply as he turns them onto a small road towards the outskirts of town. 

*

When the ground beneath the tyres starts to crunch, David opens his eyes again. 

The tall trees that bend overhead make the earthy track they’ve turned down darken, and while a dark dirt road would usually spike David’s already prickled anxiety, with Patrick next to him David feels calm - like they’re being closed off from the rest of the world. 

They pull into a clearing that’s lined with grit and dead leaves, looking out across a slender body of water, it’s surface quiet and smooth as it trickles around rocks and fallen branches. It looks like your stereotypical make out spot, but with the overgrowth surrounding it and the lack of tyre treads, it’s obviously been void of highschoolers for a while. 

Patrick parks and turns off the engine. He leans over the steering wheel and peers out at the creek, nodding triumphantly. 

“Hm, Stevie was right. This place is pretty perfect.”

Right. Stevie. Of course. She probably spent the majority of her youth here making questionable life choices in the back of pickup trucks. It makes David smile as he imagines a teenage Stevie Budd, as fearless as she is today but with a bold streak of rebellion. 

“Where are we?” David asks, shifting in his seat to glance from the treetops to the river rocks. Although it’s the type of nature David tends to stay away from unless there’s a stage and a VIP area, it’s peaceful. He hopes the treetops are dense enough to keep intrusive thoughts away.

Patrick rolls back his seat and pops the glove compartment. 

“It’s the creek…” he quirks an eyebrow at David’s blank expression. “You’ve never been here?”

“I didn’t know it _was_ here.”

“What?” Patrick laughs. “You’ve lived here for years and you’ve never wondered about the creek in _Schitt’s Creek_?”

“I’ve honestly never dwelled on it,” David replies. 

Patrick leans over and releases David’s seatbelt from its clasp. David thinks maybe he’s about to say something cocky, but instead he’s delightfully proven wrong as Patrick slides a thumb behind David’s ear and pulls him in for a languid kiss. 

With a strong hand that cradles David’s head, Patrick’s lips starts to chip away at David’s tension as he keeps their faces close. David opens instantly to the kiss, the heat of Patrick’s mouth comforting against the early evening breeze, and let’s Patrick move his head to wherever he wants. David loves it when Patrick takes charge of a kiss, remembering the days when his movement were needy but unsure. 

As David feels Patrick pull to the side slightly, he opens one eye to see him rummaging through the open glove box. 

“Uhm, am I keeping you from something?”

Patrick grins and licks at David’s parted lips. When he brings his hand back to press against the side of David’s face, he’s clutching a fat, tightly rolled joint and bright green lighter. 

And then it all clicks into place. 

“Stevie says it’s a good indica,” Patrick murmurs, pecking David’s lips several times more and David’s eyes lock onto the joint. 

“Is that Northern Lights?“

“It might be,” Patrick’s smug smile confirms. 

“I love you,” David breathes. 

Patrick grins. “You talking to me or the weed?”

David doesn’t clarify. 

*

Stretched out on the hood of Patrick’s car, David lays back against the windshield and releases a long and cleansing exhale. Patrick lights the joint, skillfully blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before handing it to David. 

David takes a slow hit, eyes rolling back as the earthy flavour hits him in a relaxing familiarity. He rolls his tongue around the taste and exhales with a sigh. 

“Damn,” is all he says, and then Patrick’s laying next to him, shoulders pressed. 

“Better?” David takes another hit and nods before passing it back. “Good.”

He watches Patrick’s mouth around the end of the joint and licks his lips. Patrick looks good in this light, bare arms prickling against the cool evening, smoke curling up around his nose. David wonders how he got so lucky. 

“I’m sorry about back at the house,” David says softly and Patrick quickly shakes his head. 

“Don’t be.” He blows out and hands it back, arm curling behind his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” 

David pauses, thinks and then takes a breath. 

“I should-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Patrick interrupts softly. “I mean, unless you feel like you need to. But we don’t have to talk at all.” 

The full indica starts to unfurl around David’s body as he takes another hit, turning to blow the smoke away from Patrick’s face. He comes back to press his forehead against Patrick’s chin. 

They lay in mostly silence as the joint is passed back and forth, Patrick declining the offer after just a few hits, insisting David finish it himself so Patrick can still drive them home. 

David doesn’t argue, just falls into the buzzing feeling that spreads behind his eyes and drips into his chest, sucking greedily at the rest of the joint. As he sits up and smacks his lips together, swallowing against the dryness, Patrick joins him and hands him a small bottle of apple juice. 

“God, you’re perfect,” David sighs and then immediately groans when Patrick pulls a bar of dark chocolate from his pocket. “Oh my god.”

He surges forward to capture Patrick’s mouth and he can _feel him_ smirking into the chaste kiss. 

*

Happy, unburdened, and horny as hell, David drags Patrick and the blanket into the backseat, scooting into a seat first and then pulling Patrick onto his lap. 

Patrick groans as David’s hands slide beneath his shirt, cold against his skin. David dips his fingertips beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear, massaging the tops of Patrick’s asscheeks. 

As Patrick starts to rock against him, David tips his head over the back of the seat. Immediately he feels the pull of Patrick’s teeth against the soft flesh of his throat and David lets his mouth fall open. 

“ _Fuck, Patrick_.”

Patrick rocks a little harder, the tough denim of their jeans offering delicious friction as he sucks a red bruise at the hollow of David’s throat. David bucks up against the pressure of Patrick’s body, enjoying the filthy moan that spills from Patrick’s mouth in response. 

David opens his eyes to find Patrick’s lust heavy ones staring back. They smile lazily at each other and Patrick reaches for David’s jeans, pulling them open easily and freeing his erection. 

“You’re so hard for me,” Patrick leans forward to murmur into David’s ear, breath warm and tingling as he wraps his hand around the base of the shaft. He strokes David, quick and soft at first before slowing down and adding pressure. 

The seat beneath David begins to melt until he feels like he’s floating in a warm gooey cloud, Patrick’s hands and mouth the only thing keeping him anchored to earth. 

David reaches out to cup Patrick through his jeans. 

“I want your cock against mine. Can you - _fuck_ \- can you do us both?”

Patrick groans and nods, shoving his own jeans open and pulling his cock from him boxers. He spits in his hand and wraps it around them both, and David’s too far gone to even pull a face, instead thrusts up against the new slickness. 

It doesn’t take long for Patrick to get them both there, cupping his hand over the heads of their dicks to catch as much of the come as possible. 

David arches as he comes before sinking boneless back into the seat, pulling Patrick with him so they can kiss until the come goes cold. 

“I love you,” David whispers when Patrick pulls back to press their foreheads together. 

“I love _you_ ,” Patrick replies, brushing his thumb over the shell of David’s ear.

*

On the drive home, David stays in the backseat, curled beneath the blanket Patrick wraps him in just before they set off and munching slowly on a second bar of chocolate. 

As he doses he can hear Patrick humming along with the radio to something he vaguely recognises. 

The trees overhead thin out, but as they turn back into the main strip of town, David feels unreachable.


End file.
